Skirmish (Fangdarr): Enough

Skirmish (Fangdarr): Enough

Follow along each week for Skirmishes of characters of the Orcblood Legacy Series. These are real events that take place during the story’s timeline but are not detailed in the book.

The orc stepped out of the room on unsteady feet, his chest rising quickly from the exertion. After the brutal event had passed, the shroud of fury dissipated from his mind. Fangdarr knew what he had done. He could feel the stench of its immorality rising through his stomach as it tensed. The disapproving glare of his deceased mother hounded him, only adding to his shame. 

With new clarity, the orc stared around the room and saw the gory scene he had created. The corpse of a small child—a child!—lay in a pool of her own blood, mixed with the man next to her. Fangdarr felt as if he could hardly remember what had happened. In his enraged state, he had done unimaginable things. Horrid things. The events replayed in his head and he held back tears as he realized just how monstrous he had become. 

Then, Raz’ja stepped inside with his wicked grin that only spread wider upon sight of the carnage within. The sensitivities Fangdarr was feeling fled immediately, replaced by a toxic necessity to show no vulnerability. That hurt him more than anything else, knowing that for a brief moment he had felt the painful reality of what he was becoming, only to force it away at the first risk of exposure. All the atrocities he had committed against undeserving victims were simply waved away, denying them the respect they should have been given.

And yet, despite knowing the horror he had wrought, Fangdarr, too, could not help but return Raz’ja’s smile. 

Bending low, the orc gripped the man’s ears tightly and placed a heavy foot on the back of his skull. With one quick tug, they came free in his hands. He raised the bloody ears toward his pouch slowly but paused. Without a word, Fangdarr turned and strode back into the other room. Raz’ja tilted his head curiously as the sound of a woman’s whimpers and sobs passed through the house. The troll chieftain grew even more curious as Fangdarr returned to the main room, no longer holding the man’s ears. 

Seeing his ally’s puzzled expression, the orc simply stated, “Her kill. Her ears.”

Raz’ja’s brow furrowed in disappointment and for a moment Fangdarr thought they would engage in a conflict then and there. But as quick as it had come, the troll’s scowl turned to humor and he burst into hysterical laughter. Finally catching his breath, Raz’ja patted his own overflowing sack of ears on his belt. “Let’s just hope you have enough,” he responded with deadly certainty. 

Fangdarr looked down to his own pouch, blood dripping from the soaked leather as it bulged with the ears of those he had killed. He recalled each and every kill in an instant. “It is enough.”